


Stories of the Second Self: Earning the Wings

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [97]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22608961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: Malachi, a teenage boy is pulled from school by his parents when they see he's slowly growing wings. Unaware of the emergence of supernaturals elsewhere, Malachi struggles to accept life being sheltered and home-schooled. Daring progressively bolder nighttime excursions, Malachi tests his ability to glide and eventually fly. Soaring far from his house, Malachi spots the shooting in a city park and descends to help. He learns the other traits his wings offer and insight for why he has them.
Series: Alter Idem [97]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Earning the Wings

It freaked my parents out that I had these, the wings. During the summer they looked like weird tumors or something coming out my shoulders right behind my arms. However, by October, it was clear I had tiny chick wings growing, and this crystalline fuzz slowly started to look more like feathers of glass. I couldn't wear shirts anymore.

That's when my parents pulled me out of school and made up some bullshit story about illness. ‘It’s to keep you safe, Malachi,’ They said and arranged with Principal Miller to get my homework and lessons sent home with them. The following spring I started home schooling formally.

That bothered me. I liked high school. I miss my friends, had a couple teachers whose classes I enjoyed being in, and that was all gone. No graduation ceremony, and no prom dances. Just stuck in the house every day, all day.

Nights were the worst. I don't know why, but the moment the sun set I got anxious, depressed, and even feel weak sometimes. Weak. I guess that's all relative, because without working out, my chest got a shitload bigger.

Curious, I started using my dad's weight set. By the time he realized, I was already benching twice what he'd left on the bar. He yelled at me for doing it and not having a spotter, but then I showed him how easy I could do it. He was still mad, but at least he made time for me to work out under his supervision.

By the end of February I tried something in the garage at night, when my parents went to sleep. The gust from my wing strokes blew dust out of crevices that I didn't think had dust. I also lifted about a foot off the ground. Yeah, it was time to sneak out and see what I could do.

It was both corny and melodramatic to be sneaking out my window at two in the morning, but, well, my room was on the top floor, and the window overlooked one of the slopes of the house. There's this old saying about learning to crawl before you can run, or something like that.

So, I didn't just leap off the roof like some dumb ten year old pullin' shit, hoping I'd fly like Superman. No, I just glided toward the road. Parasailed is more like it, but whatev. Anyway, I didn't have any issues, and landed with only a couple stomps of my feet to avoid face-planting.

I'd gone parasailing with my parents a couple summers ago, so I had the idea, and loved the experience. I don't know how many times I re-watch my GoPro video. Before the wings started, I dreamt of flying. Not sure if was related to that summer, but those were the greatest nights of sleep I got before this-- condition started showing.

Suburb roads were pretty dead at that hour, so I started by just running down the street with my wings out. The feathers did this weird thing, where they show a distorted view of whatever my wings are blocking, kind of like an invisibility cloak, but still sorta visible. It's moving my wings that made them more apparent. I'm sure people saw me when I did this and thought I was crazy.

Yet, I got results. Going at a full sprint, my feet lost contact with the ground. I cruised something like two hundred feet; more than the Wright Brothers, according to my history textbook. I tried it a couple more times, but didn't want to push my luck too far that night.

Later in the week, however, I decided it was time to go farther. The first time I tried flapping my wings I almost rolled over and slipped sideways down into someone's car. Yet, I corrected and went side to side trying to go straight. Yeah, it's not easy. Though, the next time I managed to get up above the lamp posts with a few strokes and then let myself glide back down.

It went like that for the next week also, each time I'd get higher, further, and with more wing beats. By Monday night of the third week I was confident enough to try turning. Almost biffed it a couple times, and narrowly got caught up on a power line. That was the sign that I probably shouldn't be doing it at night. My eyesight grew sharper than ever a couple months after the wings buds first appeared, but apparently I didn't have owl eyes, so I had to figure something out.

Spring break rolled around, and while I couldn't go, my parents went on vacation. I acted all disappointed, but inwardly I was thrilled. My mom let me cut two slits in a bathrobe because she was tired of me going around the house bare chested. So, one day around noon I threw it on and my dad's tan longcoat and headed out.

I'm sixteen, but I still had to get around on a bike. Though, when I thought no one was watching, I'd take off the coat on the way to one of the parks, and use my wings to propel me and not peddle at all. Also, I could steer that bitch no one would believe. Whipped right around cars in traffic. I don't think they noticed the wings. I mean how could they? Maybe I should make myself a street name, like Raptor after that stealth jet.

Out on the lesser visited parks I went way out into the middle and chained my bike to a tree. I left my red robe and my dad's coat on it, and then started flying over the trees, ducking into clearings when I thought I saw someone looking my way. Ohh, the freedom!

Okay, I slacked off my homework that week, but shit man, it was spring break after all. My parents came back, so that ended the day flights for a while. I went back to flying at night, only this time I bothered to check out what the heights were of everything I'd run into. The Federal Aviation Administration and the local utility company had more detail on that than I figured anyone would.

The first night flight after my parents got back changed everything. So, I'm cruisin' over this park with my robe on, 'cause it's still cold with wind rushing by like that. Then down below, I saw these flashes and heard pop-pop! At first, I lost my shit, thinkin' I'd have to dodge fireworks. But it turned out some bunch of guys were shooting at some kids from the school.

From my vantage point, I noticed this blonde chick running away in a direction from pretty much everyone else. One of the shooters followed her. I'd never carried another person flying, and I wasn't sure that was a good idea. I'd be slower and tire out faster, but I had to do something.

Descending somewhere ahead of her, I hid out by this park bathroom. She ran right by it, so I grabbed her and pulled her around the side. She screamed, but I covered her mouth. "Shhh! I'll get you outta here!"

I didn't count on the guy rounding the corner so soon. The dude saw me, but took aim at the girl. I didn't think, I just jumped over her and the gun went off. I felt it against my wing, but it was like getting punched. He fired a few times more, and I heard the girl yelp like she got hit.

"Drop your weapon!" someone yelled from a speaker somewhere.

The guy looks out where that came from and hauled ass the other way. Not sure what's what, I stayed on top of the girl and pretended to be dead. Another couple set of feet pounded by with some rattling, like stuff hanging off belts maybe. There was more pops, but I thought it wasn't quite the same.

The girl moaned and cried, which made me rise up and check to see if she was okay. There was blood coming from her ear, and I realize that a bullet must've gone through. Though, all this hair on her neck distracted me. It was just like the hair from her head, and nearly as long. Weird, but, Looking her over elsewhere... 'ya know, respectfully, I didn't see any other wounds.

That's when it occurred to me to look myself over and ask, "Am I hit anywhere? I might be in shock or something."

"No," she moans, and then took a closer look. "What's that?"

When she touched me wings I knew what she meant, and figured I'd run out of excuses. "Uhh-- wings."

Getting up, I felt something hard under my foot. I knelt down and found one of the slugs the guy shot. Checking around, I felt others. That was the night I realized my wings could take bullets.

Though, the girl was out like a light, and I saw that a bullet did get her, because there was a pool of blood from her shoulder. I picked her up, which was easy, and came out from behind the bathroom. I saw a bunch of flashing lights and figured on running that way.

Most were cops, but then ambulances started arriving. My legs tired out before my arms did, so I slowed to a walk, and that's when I saw this big girl and some other kids being helped by cops.

I don't meat fat, though she might've been, but just really tall. Last year, there was this girl... Gillian I think, who everyone called Bertha. Kinda fucked up, but she was over seven feet at the time. When a flashlight beams turns toward the big girl, I realized it was her only she's way over seven feet now.

Cops were so distracted by her and this other woman that they cuffed, that I made my move. I went over to one of the ambulances and called out.

When one of the paramedics saw me, I laid down the girl I carried. "She's shot. Once through her ear, and another in her shoulder I think."

They went right to work, and no one was looking, so I crept off. Once far enough away, I took off and flew straight home.

It was weeks later, when I saw the school shooting on TV. Fuckin' shocked the shit out of me when they walked a werewolf out of the school with its hands over its head. I learned later that it was this new kid, Mark, who'd moved to Norwood just that year.

After I told my parents about it, and more news reports came up about other kids, I got a call from one of my friends at school. He said they were planning an assembly after the week off everyone got, and wondered if I'd help out. The deal was, everyone was going to reveal their changes. I hadn't thought anyone else was going through what happened to me.

I made my friend talk to my dad about it, and it was the first time I saw my dad just break down crying right there. He waved me and my mom over, and hugged us both with one arm.

They let me go back to school when everyone else did. I wasn't registered yet, but I stood on the stage with Miranda and the other kids. It felt good to have it out in the open that I had turned into an angel, though I was hoping it was more an X-man thing.


End file.
